


talk dirty to me

by Yavemiel



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Phone Sex, Smut, actually walkie-talkie sex but for some reason there isn't a tag for that, irredeemable smut, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavemiel/pseuds/Yavemiel
Summary: 'Ianto sighs and stares at the ceiling of the Archives, questioning every decision he’s ever made that’s brought him to this moment in his life.'Or, Jack talks Ianto into trying out walkie-talkie sex.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 16
Kudos: 65





	talk dirty to me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a little outside of my usual wheelhouse, and a huge shout of thanks to the people who encouraged me along the way: cxptained (an especial thank you for the beta and the reassurance!), engagemythrusters (who came up with the idea of Ianto and Jack having walkie-talkie sex in the first place and let me to run with it and kept cheering me on the whole way through), and blipintime (whose excellent fic sparked this idea and who also kindly let me run with it while encouraging me all the way) this story definitely wouldn't have seen the light of day without you all! 
> 
> If you read the title and didn't immediately sing 'Jason Derulo' in That Voice, then congratulations! Your musical taste is better than mine. :D
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“This is stupid.”

“Sorry, what was that? Over.”

“I _said_ , this is stupid.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t quite understand you. Over.”

Ianto sighs and stares at the ceiling of the Archives, questioning every decision he’s ever made that’s brought him to this moment in his life.

“I feel stupid doing this.”

“...”

“...over.”

“Why? It’s no different to when we talk dirty in bed. Or on the couch. Or the floor. Or up against the wall in the-“

“Ok yes thank you, I get the point! It feels different though.”

“It’s not your turn to speak, I didn’t say over! Over.”

Ianto strangles the air in front of him as best he can while holding a walkie-talkie in one hand.

“This isn’t exactly putting me in the mood, Jack...over.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Over.”

Jack’s laughter is clear in his voice, but it’s also dipping into a deeper register that Ianto’s brain automatically recognises as sex, and despite himself he can feel his breathing pick up and his heart start to race in anticipation.

“You’ll make it up to me? I’m not sure, Jack, I’m pretty annoyed. Over.” He realises he’s already toying with the waistband of his trousers and he whips his hand away almost guiltily.

“But we have some of our best sex when we’re annoyed.” Jack’s voice is definitely deeper now, intimate and close even over the slightly crackly audio of the walkie-talkie. “Remember the time you were mad at me because I told the head of UNIT that he was a bigoted, incompetent asshole? Over.”

Ianto does remember that particular...argument. He had teeth marks on his throat that he had to cover up for days afterwards, and marks on Jack’s hips that his fingers fitted perfectly. His fingers go to his throat to press at remembered bruises and his breathing has definitely sped up.

“I remember.” His voice is slightly hoarse, and he clears his throat self-consciously. “I remember that you did it on purpose to annoy me. Over.”

“Oh really? Because that’s not what I remember. Shall I tell you what I remember, Ianto Jones? Over.”

His throat is dry now, and his grip on the walkie-talkie is making his knuckles turn white.

“Yes.”

“Sorry, say again? Over.”

How is it possible, Ianto wonders despairingly, to be this irritated and this turned on simultaneously.

“Yes. Over.”

“I remember you slamming me into the wall next to my desk, and kissing me so hard that I forgot how to breathe, biting my lip ‘til it bled, just a little bit, and then ripping open my shirt while I bit down on the tendon _just there_ on the side of your neck.”

Ianto’s world has narrowed down to the slightly crackly sound of Jack’s voice out of the walkie-talkie speaker, and fuck toying with the waistband, he practically rips open his fly, shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and moaning as he immediately takes his erection in hand. He’s so much closer than he should be from just Jack’s voice in his ear and a memory playing behind his eyelids, but he’s long ago stopped questioning the effect that Jack has on him.

“I love your neck,” Jack is saying, “I love the way it looks when you arch your head back when I hit exactly the right spot inside you that makes you scream. Fuck, I love being inside of you, love feeling you clenching around me when you come, so tight it’s almost too much.”

Ianto can feel his body clenching down on the phantom weight of Jack’s cock, panting as he strokes himself more urgently, his own sweat and precome slicking his grip and making everything hotter and wetter.

Jack is still talking, his voice sounding increasingly breathless, and Ianto is comforted that he’s not the only one seriously affected by this.

“The only thing I love more than being inside you is having you inside me, fuck, you always feel so good, fill me up so perfectly, I never want it to end.”

Ianto’s mind is providing him with graphic visuals as Jack speaks, Jack up against the door in his office, Ianto thrusting into him from behind, or Jack in his bed, his legs slung over Ianto’s shoulders, almost bent in half and still urging Ianto on, harder, faster, Jack’s face when he comes with Ianto inside him, pure pleasure in every line. He bites down on the back of the hand holding the walkie-talkie to stifle the loud moans coming out of his mouth, his other hand moving almost frantically on his cock.

“Are you close, Ianto? Over.”

“Yes!”

Silence, and Ianto moans frantically, knowing he’s forgotten something, but unable to think through the want and lust clouding his mind.

“Fu-fuck, _yes_ , Jack, please don’t stop talking now!”

Still silence and he almost sobs in frustration, stuck right on the edge of orgasm, needing Jack to just keep talking. He forces himself to think and realises what he’s done wrong.

“Over!” he says, the desperate note in his voice making it more a whine than a yell.

“Well, as you’ve said ‘over’,” Jack says and he gasps because the crackle of the walkie-talkie is gone, Jack’s voice right in his ear, low and intimate and sending a shocking bolt of lust directly down his spine into his balls and he drops the walkie-talkie with a clatter.

Jack’s breath is tickling his throat and when he takes in a huge gasp of air he can smell Jack’s scent, almost taste it in the air. He’s overwhelmed and gasping, eyes closed as he tips his head sideways into the crook of Jack’s neck and mouths aimlessly at his throat, just desperately needing to feel Jack’s skin under his, to have the taste of him in his mouth.

“Fuck, Ianto,” Jack says, breathless “you looked so good, touching yourself for me, so lost in it that you didn’t even hear me coming into the room...fuck, I’ve just gotta-”

Jack cuts himself off and slides his hand down Ianto’s chest and stomach, his dancing fingers leaving what feel like trails of fire on Ianto’s skin before he slides his hand over Ianto’s where it’s still grasping his cock, distracted from movement by the everything of Jack surrounding him. Jack moves their hands in tandem over his cock, and Ianto swears, slamming his head back against Jack’s shoulder as he’s immediately overwhelmed by the sensation.

He can feel Jack hard and rutting up against him from behind, his panting breaths in Ianto’s ears interspersed with almost incoherent babble about Ianto and how hot he is, how much he loves seeing him like this, undone and splayed and all Jack’s and he can feel himself surging close to the edge again when the gun callus on Jack’s finger catches the head of his cock as Jack sinks his teeth into the tendon running down the side of Ianto’s neck and the dual sensation is too much.

His mind whites out, hips pumping frantically as he lets out a wailing cry that he’d be embarrassed about under any other circumstance, but right now he doesn’t care, all he cares about is the incredible pleasure coursing through every inch of his body, Jack’s hand, still moving over him to the point of pleasure-pain and Jack’s mouth, nipping and laving alternately at the mark his teeth have left in Ianto’s throat. He slides one hand up into Jack’s hair, needing to hold on to something, but he pulls a little harder than he means to. He’s about to gasp out an apology, but Jack whines high in his throat and his hand stops moving as his hips stutter in their rhythm into Ianto and his whole body tenses as Ianto feels warmth spreading at the small of his back. He keeps his hand in Jack’s hair, more stroking than tugging and turns his head to mouth at Jack’s (admittedly spectacular) jawline until he stops moving as well.

They stay frozen for a moment before Jack huffs out a massive breath and collapses slightly onto Ianto, causing him to stumble forward and catch them both on the table in front of him. He spins them so that Jack is half sat on the table and leans back against him, catching his breath.

“That was,” he says eventually, “the most ridiculous thing we’ve done yet. Why do I listen to your mad suggestions.”

Jack laughs at him, ruffling the hair over his ear. “Because they’re always fun!”

Ianto hmms and Jack pokes him gently in the ribs.

“Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

“It was...different,” Ianto allows and gets a stronger poke. “Ok, yes, it was very enjoyable.” A definite tickling action and he finally breaks and laughs, turning to face Jack. “Ok, ok, it was very hot and I enjoyed it immensely, are you happy now?”

Jack smiles at him, the genuine smile that he only gives when he’s truly happy. “Ianto Jones, how could I be anything but happy with you,” and Ianto scoffs a little, but he has to lean forward and kiss him anyway, right on his happy, smiling mouth, and Jack’s hands come up immediately to frame his face.

They break apart after a moment and Ianto grimaces down at himself, noting the half dried semen that’s spattering his belly and his cock and balls, though his underwear and his trousers are still halfway down his thighs and mostly untouched. He suspects that his shirt didn’t escape though, and he reaches behind him to confirm, making a face as he encounters damp, sticky fabric.

“Ugh, I’m a mess,” he says, reaching around Jack to grab some tissues from the table (let it never be said that Ianto leaves any space unprepared), and scrubbing the worst of it off before pulling up his pants. “I desperately need a shower.”

He looks at Jack, who’s still lolling against the desk. He should look ridiculous, leaning back on his hands, cock hanging out of his pants (which definitely did not escape as unscathed as Ianto’s), but he’s so utterly at ease in his own body that he makes it look sexy.

Jack notices Ianto’s gaze and wiggles his eyebrows. “Or you could come down to my bed, and we could get a little messier.”

Ianto is tempted, so tempted, but, “No, I need a night of sleep on my own mattress, if I spend one more night in that torture device you call a bed, my back may never forgive me.”

He turns away, searching for the walkie-talkie he dropped on the floor in the middle of everything, and snags from where it skittered almost under a filing cabinet. The silence behind him is almost tentative, and Ianto is reminded again how much everything has changed since Jack got back. He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and says “Of course, if you wanted...well, I mean, my bed is big enough for two.”

More silence, but this time he can’t gauge the mood and it makes him babble nervously, still facing away from Jack. “I mean, only if you want to of course, you’re not obliged, I just thought...my mattress is better, and it might be nice to sleep in a bed for once where neither of us is in any danger of falling over the edge and breaking an arm. I mean, obviously that’ll heal up quick for you, but it would put me out of action for weeks-”

He forcibly cuts himself off and turns to face Jack, relieved when he sees he’s grinning at him.

“So...you coming?”

“Again?” Jack asks and Ianto rolls his eyes, back on familiar ground. Jack laughs. “Sounds great, count me in.”

“Might want to, ah, cover up there, Sir,” he says, raising an eyebrow in the direction of Jack’s pants where he’s still fully on show. “I think Tosh might still be upstairs, and I’m not sure she’s ready for the full Captain Harkness experience.”

“She would be so lucky,” Jack says, but he’s tucking himself back into his pants and hopping off the table, striding for the door. “Come on, Ianto, time’s a wastin’!”

Ianto rolls his eyes again, but he does so with a fond smile now that Jack can’t see, and he turns out the lights, and follows Jack back to the Hub, and takes him home.

_-fin-_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, please leave a note/kudos to let me know how you felt! :)


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